A Change in the Winds
by Synthetic Voice
Summary: Yes, this is a bit of fangirling, but who wouldn't fangirl Norrington? Morgan is an original character of mine - Felix is not, but he's essential for this. All of this came from a few RPGs that have unfortunately long since died.
1. Chapter 1

"Hold your arm out straight. Straight! No, not like that! Like this," and she demonstrated, knocking the sword out of his hand for the umpteenth time. Felix cursed under his breath and went to retrieve his blade, leaving Morgan chuckling behind one hand. The two had been sparring for some time, waiting for _The_ _Black Pearl,_ Captain Jack Sparrow's infamous ship, to return with its latest cargo of booty. Captain Sparrow had left his first mate and her helper on Isla de Muerta for no reason other than to "guard the gold" that they stock-piled from every raid, even though with its obvious location it needed no guarding – in reality, their constant on-and-off bickering was getting on his nerves, not that he let on. Even so, the two had jumped at the chance for some break time. Mounds of gold, jewels, and random items of value were the only things to give witness to their sword-play.

"Now, I want you to bend your elbow, like this, and hold the sword firmly. Leave your wrist loose, that's what's going to swing - that's better." She complimented the skinny man as he managed to parry one of her blows, yet she kept her sword held tightly. Having been born and raised as a pirate, Morgan Skully was not one to lose her sword over a minor skirmish like this. Her own father had been captain of his vessel in his day; Felix, on the other hand, was a desertee from the British fleet and Morgan was not at all surprised by the lack of training the damned weasels taught their men. Then again, Felix had never seemed to be one to take anything but the easy way out, which was why she was trying to drill him in the basic skills of sea-life - it wouldn't do to lose a crew member in a stupid accident.

Felix held the sword up and studied it for a moment, and then studied Morgan's stance. He was lanky as the sword was thin - his nose probably could've weighed down a boat, yet it gave a certain balance to the other features on his face. Six feet tall and clumsy as a fish on land, he was probably one of the most awkwardly graceful men she had ever met. _Even Jack can get around when he's sober, and that's saying something_, she laughed silently to herself as she watched Felix attempt to pull his long limbs together in a semblance of a defense. She struggled to hide a smirk and lunged forward, causing him to take a step backwards and lose his footing yet again, spilling him in a wash of gold coins and curse words. Morgan couldn't help but out rightly laugh, bringing tears to her amethyst eyes as he came up with a crown set askew on his knobby head, covering both of his eyes and a frown souring his whole face.

"Mother of Pearl, but will you ever learn?" She reached out a hand to help the man up - she was barely five five, yet she had the strength of five men. Tanned possibly to the bone, Morgan was the opposite of a courtly lady of the day. Hardly a damsel in distress, she wore her hair long and wild, letting the wind brush its red curls into a tangle and in the end had to put it down in a braid that coursed down her back like a snake. The two were opposites, yet held an easy friendship as if they had known each other all their lives - even so, Morgan had suspicions about the man that she hid in the back of her mind. They had been crewmates for a little less than three months, enough time to build trust and prove it a hundred times over. Felix pushed the crown off of his head easily and accepted the hand, swinging up onto his feet and retrieving his sword in one motion. He nodded at her and fell back into the stance - instantly her features faded from amusement to seriousness. When it came down to blades, there was nothing to joke about.

He came at her in an expected attack - head-on, like most newbies to the sword. A charge more like a run, she sidestepped and gave him a push to ease his momentum into full speed and out of control for him. What she wasn't expecting was his foot to come sliding out from under him as he pitched forward, sending her falling into her own pile of swag. She lost her sword - her father's rapier, one of the few things she had left to remember him by - and her head rolled from the sudden pain of crashing into a thousand pieces of gold and some very hard rock flooring.

"Morgan? Ah damn, I'm sorry, I wasn't watching my footing." He was sitting, elbows on his knees in a relaxed position. Morgan crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him, an obvious sign that she was fine. He laughed, the sound like a quiet crash of thunder - she wondered for a moment where the sound came from in such a paper-thin man. Sitting up found her head spinning again and Felix was suddenly there putting a hand on the back of her head to check for bruising.

"I've learned to roll with the falls - though I suppose I've gotten used to not expecting it," he mumbled, worried that he had really hurt her. The close proximity was awkward for a moment - two sets of eyes aligned like stars and only the sound of coins sliding on top of coins could be heard as Morgan moved her hand to push him away. She simply smiled in return and stood up with no fuss.

"I'm fine, truly. What's a bump? Now where's my sword? I've got to get you back for that one." She found her rapier and turned to find Felix standing up - something seemed to have changed in him, some kind of resolve suddenly coming through in the expression in his face, in the posture of his body. She flexed her shoulders and stood _en guarde_, beckoning him forward. He stood silent for a moment, regarding her, and began to pace to the right. Morgan copied to the contrary, pacing to the left, and they circled for a moment, testing each other and looking for openings. Morgan made the first move, picking out a mistake - he had left his left side open when he crossed his right foot over his left, putting him in a weak position. He quickly parried, knocking her sword to the side with a strong blow, but only causing her to switch to the right. She noted that he was keeping up with her much better than before - in fact, he was doing far better than before, as though he had been toying with her and was only now revealing the true measure of his skill. There had been a few moments like this before - where she sensed that there was something more there, but she couldn't decide if he was unwilling to tap into those skills or if he was simply hiding them for one reason or another.

Now she was sure which one it was, and she wasn't sure she was happy with the idea.

She moved to the right, and he followed - she struck and feinted, back and forth, back and forth, and he either copied or parried each move with perfect skill, never missing a beat. They continued on like this for five, ten, fifteen minutes, neither willing to let the other into their defense. Finally they came to a standstill, once again pacing in a circle and watching each other like sharks. Morgan's face had gone dead serious, her amethyst eyes shining like hard glass; Felix's face was apathetic yet stern, a stony expression that seemed so unlike the joking man she knew. It was as if he was trying to prove something to her, something she had yet to learn in the three short months she had known him.

Morgan studied him for a moment, and recalled the doubts she'd had when Jack had first hired him onto the ship - she had said he could've been a British spy. After all, Jack was still wanted for his shenanigans at Port Royal, to name but one of his many offenses against the crown. And he wasn't the only one with a noose just barely around his neck - many of the crew members could've ended up swinging if they were caught by the red-coats, herself included. Or he could've been nothing better than a drunkard, and look at how he tied his knots! He was obviously a good-for-nothing, but that had changed when they had attacked a Spanish galleon. Instead of fighting like everyone else, Felix had been overcome with an apathetic demeanor (much like the present one) and he had simply swept aside two men and had tied off the wheel within a few moments. Because of his actions, they took the ship in half the time they usually did, and left it whole and intact, as Jack liked to. Jack had then simply shook his head at Morgan's complaints, saying that Felix had proved himself enough by doubling their usual haul.

She remembered how angry she'd been, how certain she'd been that there was something wrong with this man. Yet they had become comfortable in each other's presence - sharing rum, exchanging stories of their past. Morgan had wondered how true any of them were, but had never thought to ask. She had attempted to bury her suspicions in the back of her head and to listen to her captain, as her father always had taught her. After all, she and Jack had been friends since childhood, and he had helped her in many dire situations - as well as vice versa. Why would he ever not know what was right?

And now those doubts came rushing back, and she wondered faintly if he had had ulterior motives for wanting this "break time" here, on Isla de Mureta. Her thoughts must've shown on her face, because she missed a feint that Felix made - an underhanded move, something she should've noted but missed, and the next thing she knew, her sword arm was behind her back. Since he was so much bigger than her, he had simply reached past her blade, grabbed her sword arm and twisted it around, bringing his blade around to slip nicely between her chin and throat. One twitch from his wrist and blood would flow, far too quickly to be staunched and far too much for her to be saved. Morgan cursed aloud and lifted her chin away from the blade, the sneer on her lips making her pretty face bitter.

"What's this, then? You win. Care to lemme go?" She could feel the quiver in his hand as the blade twitched against her tanned skin, wondered what he was thinking. It felt strange, to be in this position - usually she had others at the tip of her sword, telling them to hand over what she wanted. She hadn't been in this position in a long, long time, and it was not the least bit comfortable.

"Felix?"

"Look - I know you don't trust me. But the captain does, and 'es the one who 'ired me." He slowly released the grip on her sword arm, lowering his own and taking a step back. She simply stood there, trying to rein in her infamous temper. Morgan, never one to be a damsel in distress - never one to let a man best her or take advantage of her in any way, shape, or form. She didn't like being told off by this toothpick of a man. Her empty hand clenched, loosed, and clenched again as she counted to ten in an attempt to calm herself.

"Morgan?" He made the mistake of taking a step forward to lay a hand on her shoulder, afraid he'd frightened her – but, oh no, he hadn't frightened her. Nothing less than the noose could scare Morgan Skully, daughter of James Skully. Right as he came within an inch, she turned on the ball of her foot and slugged him across his face. Surprised, he took the blow full force and went down, but sure enough rolled back up, his own fists turned out. Usually it wasn't in a man to hit a girl, and that was exactly how Felix was - so instead he dodged and defended, trying to keep from collecting more damage than his already profusely bleeding nose. He managed to her a hold of her shoulders, but her force and some misplaced coins made him go down again. He took Morgan with him, attempting to hug her to his chest until she stopped trying to beat him into a lifeless pulp.

"I know what Jack said, I never went against his word! I've known Jack since I was six, I know Jack, and I know what he said! Don't you think you can get away with tellin' me off, you yellow-bellied son of a -" The last word was cut off as Felix pressed his mouth against hers, his large hands wrapped around her biceps to keep her fists away from him, away from causing bruises. The action caught Morgan by surprise and she paused for a moment wide-eyed as her mind blanked of all the anger that had suddenly swelled to the surface. Anger at being dismissed in her opinions that Jack had thought to distrust her, to distrust what she had to say. She knew that the mutiny had hurt him, but didn't he know that if she had been there, she would've been on the island with him? Didn't him saving her from that crazed voodun priest prove anything? And now, here, this man, this ingrate, who Jack had selected to serve on his ship, had the nerve to tell her what she ought to think, and then...she noticed that he had moved back, was sitting back on the balls of his feet now - watching the thoughts play out over her face - having pulled back a second before she had realized what was going on. He smirked, obviously knowing every little thing on her mind and understanding everything, which for some reason irked her anew, and brought a storm cloud over her features again.

In response, he released her arms, causing her to spill over backwards and into her own blessed space. Her head spun with a mix of confusion, anger, and butterflies in her stomach. The only thing she could say was "I know what Jack said," over, and over again until she finally ran out of those words to say.

"I know. I just...I thought we ought'a say somethin', since it's been on yer mind fer so long."

"Whadda mean? How did you know?" She furrowed her brows, surprised that he knew what had been on her mind for the last three months. His gave a small smile in response.

"You think I don't notice things? I'm quiet, an' I act dumb, but I'm not. In fact, I'm a bit offended that you wou' think that of me." He winked, making another one of his jokes. He pulled his long legs up to let his elbows rest on the knees, a more relaxed and familiar position. Morgan felt a burning embarrassment wash up over her face - she was smart when it came to things like ships and piracy. Other people, and relationships, that was a whole other world to her. Oh, she knew how to pick the crew members, how to watch for signs of unease, distress, and mutiny. She knew how to watch for the signs that something bad was going to happen. But how to stop others from reading things in her, now that was a mystery she hadn't figured out on her own. She glanced to the side and found her sword, somehow lost in the brief brawl and lying askew in a pile of gold and jewels.

"Yeah, well, don't think I think that. Call it a woman's intuition - I think I know things, and so I know 'em. You ain't been on the ship that long, so what else was I suppose to think?"

"I'll give you that, but what's with all the looks? The glares and the nasty looks. One moment, you're as right as sunshine to me, and the next I think I'm being bowled over by a wave. I don't get it." Morgan shrugged.

"Sorry, but I get a bit testy when Jack doesn't listen to me. I mean, we've known each other for so long, but for some reason he's not the same lad I grew up with. Little less than a year ago, there was a mutiny - he wasn't the same man afterwards, and it bothers me sometimes. You, you're just another thing he didn't listen to me about." She smiled sheepishly. "I'll try to knock it off, I will." Felix nodded, taking the words at the face value and treasuring the sight of her blushing in embarrassment. They fell silent for a moment, and another question rose to Morgan's lips as the sound of a bell tolled through the caves.

"The Pearl's back." Morgan didn't even have to have the words leave her mouth - Felix was already standing, one hand held out to help Morgan up. She considered the option of disregarding his offer, but that would break everything they had just worked out. She took his hand in her own smallish one, and stood up with the fluid grace that can only be acquired from being raised on a ship. For a moment, they were but a breath apart and the heat in her cheeks wasn't from embarrassment, and then she could hear the sound of oars splashing and voices shouting about the latest loot. She stepped back, releasing his hand and looking towards the mouth of the cave. A moment before the rowboats came into view she muttered her last question to Felix.

"Why'd you kiss me?" He smirked in reply to the question.

"You're cute when you're angry." The sound of Morgan's palm slapping Felix's cheek was the first thing to greet Jack Sparrow, who was already confused as to why his first mate looked so perturbed and why the new hire was rubbing his cheek and looking like the cat who got the canary.


	2. Chapter 2

They weren't supposed to be in jail. The ship had docked for the night, and the main members of the crew had disembarked to find information on their latest task – to find Elizabeth Swann. Jack had dragged his daughter, Stella, away from Will, to give the boy some time to think to himself; Morgan had taken Norrington away because Jack didn't want to deal with him and Norrington refused to go anywhere with Will, seeing as they had vied for the affections of the same woman, the same woman they were now searching for, for too long. She wasn't happy about babysitting the ex-commodore, but an order was an order was an order. Besides, she bet she could get him drunk at the nearest tavern and leave him sitting while she found some information on where this idolized Swann might have been taken.

Of course nothing went as planned. As soon as Norrington had a few drinks in him, he called out the nearest, dirtiest looking pirate to a sword fight. He lost, of course, and in due course he and Morgan were tossed into the nearest town jail to cool their heels until morning, as any town drunk would've been. Why her? Because she had been defending the drunken Norrington, though she was of the opinion that she should've left him to his own fight. Still, she had a strong sense of loyalty. And there was always something more when it came to her and ex-British naval sailors.

She hadn't even turned to scream at him – something he was unaccustomed to in women – and instead chose to take a seat on the far wall. It seemed she'd rather ignore him than discuss the situation. He stared at her, and then joined her on the floor, there being neither table nor chair to seat himself. He despised being made this low, but there were always pirates to blame. Still, there was something about this one, this woman pirate. Morgan was just like them, but then somehow so different. Just like Elizabeth, almost. In his drunken state, he was helpless against the thoughts in his mind that soon became actions.

He wound a curl of brown around one tanned finger. It was different from Elizabeth's dirty blonde, and so much longer. She had left her long hair free, thinking that there was no reason to tie it back. It was a simple reconnaissance mission, nothing that should become anything else – and how quickly it had turned about on them...

"You pirates are all the same," he whispered, though more to himself. Convincing himself. "Dirty...sneaky...awful...Nothing like...like my..."

"Like your what?" She prompted, neither moving to or away from his caresses through her hair. Her eyes focused on the floor but she was very aware of his fingers snatching at her hair, pulling it softly. She was barely breathing. Yet nothing in her mind told her to say stop, and Morgan wasn't a woman who couldn't say no.

"Like my...my Elizabeth..." He barely breathed her name, but Morgan shuddered as though he had raised a hand against her. She slowly slid one hand to a position where she could stand, finally creating in herself an urge to move away from him. But before she could stand, he had grabbed that same arm and crushed her to him - she was nearly sitting on his lap now, that same chocolate cascade of her loose hair strewn over his filthy clothes and twining with his own brown locks. His mouth pressed against hers with a desperate need, though she wasn't sure if it was for Elizabeth, for her, or for some simple need of companionship.

At this moment, she didn't care.

His beard brushed her smooth, tanned face, but she eagerly met his passion with her own. Hadn't she secretly been dreaming of this? Despite all her fears, her precautions? Despite...Felix?

Gasping, she pulled back, flinging herself from his arms to land on the floor in the middle of the cell. The whole episode might've taken a few seconds, but she was aching for breath as much as she was aching for his touch.

"I...can't, Norri...James. I just..." His eyes accused her, accused Elizabeth, accused them all for his downfall, for his loss. Why could he never have what he longed for, what he worked so hard for? It was so unfair!

"Why not? What has that pirate ever done for you? I could give you so much, Morgan...you don't understand, do you? I love you, I love a pirate! More than I loved her, and she was a decent woman..." Morgan's temper flared – hell hath no fury... She sat straight up, almost climbing to her knees but unconsciously decided to stay eye-level with him.

"A decent woman? So I'm little more than a whore t'you, James? To the depths with you, the lot of you! All of you have been nothing but trouble since Jack helped you all!" Norrington scoffed, laughing as though he hadn't lost everything. Laughing in his own self-created insanity.

"Helped us? _HELPED US_? More like tore our lives apart, the day he showed up in Port Royal with the cursed pirates on his tail! And then chasing him across the Caribbean - I was still an officer, Morgan, don't look at me like that - and that damned storm. I would have had him..." His eyes looked up from the cell floor and begged her to believe him. "But then I would have never met you. You have to see, Morgan!"

But her lips were drawn tight in a straight line, the anger plain on her face. Her heart was beating wildly; the one thing she'd never wanted more in her life, but no. It wouldn't be the first time she'd had to deny her desires, but her will to live was stronger than her selfish wants. He wasn't a whole, sane man – something in him had broken long ago. Whether it was the loss of Elizabeth or the loss of his pride she would never know, but she did know it was far wiser to remove oneself from the path of chaos before it drew one in too close. Her not to distant brush with Toombs and her eventual possession was an ever reminder.

"No. I've made a pledge, and despite what you may think, we pirates honor our word. I've pledged myself to a good man, and I won't give that up, not for a man who's betrayed his own more than once, and would turn to betray me to save his own skin. Calypso alone knows the burden I bear, and none understand that better than..." But Felix didn't know. Only Jack knew - and Stella, but that was different - witty Jack, who had rescued her yet had sold her father to Toombs, the same man who had imprisoned her. There really was no one she could trust.

But she loved Felix. Didn't she? If she were so in love with the gawky ex-British officer, why did this man stir such passions in her? She could easily say no to any pirate - even Jack - and now these two men were tearing her in twain.

"I...I need to think. Just stay on your side of the cell, and I'll stay on mine..." But Norrington could read the desire on her face plain as the sun that had tanned their skin. It wasn't so long ago when he was young himself, and naive, but he'd grown. He had learned that he had to fight tooth and nail for what he wanted. Slipping out of his dirty, mud-caked naval jacket, he moved forward to where Morgan was already seated on the ground. One hand went to her shoulder, his body still; testing the waters. The always confident-looking pirate had a gaping mouth, her wide amethyst eyes questioning his movements.

But never stopping him.

Never denying him, never saying no. And then there they were again, on the ground, his hands tangled in that long, long hair, their mouths eating each other alive. The moment she'd seen this man, the moment he'd come aboard the ship and Jack had introduced him she'd felt her heart flutter. It reminded her of the man she'd almost married, the same man who'd sent her to her death by the noose. No doubt James would do the same, had he still been an honorable man. That's what all those damned British were like.

He just didn't know that one could still have honor, even as a pirate.

"Stop, James, _stop_." She pushed at him with her hands, rolling him off of her. He was startled – eyes wide, questioning, he moved away, scowling. Morgan sat up and put her face in her hands. She was terribly, terribly confused – true enough she was attracted to each man, but she'd never gotten into anything with fellow crewmates. She would do nothing to jeopardize the balance of life on the ship, especially when they would be at sea for months. She was first mate, damn it! And she wasn't that just because she knew Jack from years past – she had earned the right! She had a mind, she could use it, or at least she used to be able to, until now. Now she was just lost.

"Stay on your side, over there. Stay. Please. That's all I ask." Her amethyst eyes watching him, she scooted over to the opposing side of the cell. Turning over, she faced the wall and stared at it. It was late – they wouldn't be released until tomorrow, when Jack and the others realized that they hadn't arrived back at the ship. Curling in on herself, she shivered in the night air and closed her eyes; then she was startled awake as she felt Norrington laid his jacket on her chilled body. Turning over, she watched him go back to the other side of the cell, sit up against the wall and close his own eyes, trying to get some sleep.

_He'll have one hell of a hang-over tomorrow,_ she thought. _S'probably what he wants. Anything to stop thinking about what he's lost. _There were better ways to deal with grief, and she'd had plenty of grief. They'd all had plenty of grief. And looking for this Elizabeth was certainly putting salt in everyone's wounds. Will, Jack, Stella...James...all of them were suffering for this woman named Elizabeth Swann. She'd never met her and had no idea what it was she had done to cause such pain. It was enough to make a person hate this Swann.


	3. Chapter 3

It seemed like everything was happening in slow motion. Morgan couldn't feel anything but the pain in her side from the cutlass. Felix was holding her, lifting her up, his mouth was moving but she heard nothing – and then there was Norrington, and all she could think was, _no, this isn't a good time, no, not now._ Felix was yelling at Norrington and...

* * *

"RELOAD THE CANNONS!"

"There're no mo' cannon balls!"

"Then just put in whatever we've got!" But the British ship had already turned and had sent out hooks to reel the Pearl back to it. Red-coated soldiers were boarding and every man on board was pulling out whatever weapon came close to hand. Morgan had her father's rapier – not an ideal weapon for close combat, but she kept it sharp. Soon the ship's topside was flooded with bodies – smelly, mismatched pirates battling clean British soldiers. Norrington himself was fighting Roberts, the commodore of the opposing ship and Norrington's replacement.

Looking from him, since he seemed perfectly capable of taking care of himself, Moran turned furiously, trying to locate Felix. But she needn't have worried – the gangly man was staving off three soldiers at once, impaling one to draw the number to two. She kept glancing at both men, always cautious. Jack couldn't help but notice how she was distracted, even though he was watching Stella's back at the same time – the teenager was good with a cutlass but a father always worries none the less. Then Morgan felt the pain in her back, and looked down – there was a piece of metal sticking out of her right side, just slid in nicely between the ribs. Mere seconds seemed like an eternity as she saw it withdraw and she turned to see the British soldier who had _dared_ to strike down a woman. The shock on his face flashed like lightning when he realized that it hadn't been a man. It was his first battle, his first kill, and it was a _woman._ In the next moment, he was dead as well, fallen prey to another pirate's club.

"No!" Felix saw Morgan fall to the deck and rushed in her direction – Norrington had noticed as well but was too caught up in the battle with Roberts. The man was not letting James get away, not after abandoning his position and falling to the rank of pirate. There was too big of a reward on all of their heads to let any one of them go now.

"Morgan! Morgan, can you 'ear me?" But all she saw was lips moving as Felix picked her up from the strangely cold floor. The wound was thin and it did cut all the way through her, but if they got her to a doctor, she might – but the edges of the world outside her gaze were black, and hazy. Were they supposed to be like that? Her shirt was soaked through with blood, her blood, her enemy's blood, maybe a little off of Felix's shirt and his own wounds. There was no way to be sure.

"Morgan! I'm going to move you to the captain's quarters!" She tried to shake her head, to say she was ok, that for goodness sake she could at least _walk_. But then her legs weren't working, and suddenly neither were her elbows, though she could move her shoulders, and hey, _that hurt!_ Felix gathered her up in his arms just as Norrington was able to break away from Roberts.

"What happened? Is she all right?"

"Does she _look_ a'right to you? What's it to you, anyway?! Move! I've got to get 'er-"

"If you move her, the wound will get worse! You're going to tear it open further!"

"Well I've already got 'er off the floor, and t'ain't going to get better from 'ere! MOVE!" Norrington looked to get in the way again, but decided against it as Felix glowered at him. He moved quickly through the bodies around them – were they winning? Morgan couldn't tell – and then she was in the captain's quarters, being laid out on Jack's huge bed covered with salt-splashed deteriorated cotton. She was quickly fading from the wound and the blood loss, but Felix had her shirt off in a moment. Tearing it into strips, he bound her tightly around the middle to hold in what little blood she might have left.

"You know...that was...me only shirt..." She smiled widely, woozy from blood loss. Her words were slurred as though she was drunk, but Felix ignored her words. He was looking around, in search of something.

"I'm right 'ere, love..." He turned and smiled at her for a brief moment, but then looked away.

"Need something to seal the wound, love. Otherwise you'll be joinin' Davey in 'is locker."

"Jack'd know something about that. Where is 'e?" Felix moved through the room, picking up scraps of paper and looking for a bit of wood that would be big enough to light and let smolder. He answered her questions absentmindedly.

"Outside...in the battle...we're turning them about. 'E thinks if we can capture Roberts 'imself, we can force 'em back to their ship."

"I've got to 'elp..." Morgan tried to sit up, but Felix was there pushing her back down.

"Don't do that, or you're goin' to go faster than we like. Jack'll like it better if you sit 'ere."

"Will James like it?" She asked the question so innocently and then looked up with wide amethyst eyes. Felix studied her for a moment, recalling Norrington's sudden worry over Morgan's condition after she had been stabbed.

"I dunno, wassit to you?" Morgan shook her head, refusing to say more. Felix laid her down, and finally found a bit of wood for incense that he could burn. He lit it, and then pulled Morgan out flat. Taking off the bandage, the wound was already attempting to close itself – it was a small wound, really, the main part of it being in her muscle. There was more of a danger with infection and blood loss than of her having an inner organ injured.

"This'll 'urt." That was all the warning he gave her as he put the smoldering piece of wood to her flesh and she screamed loudly as it burned the skin into a scar that would eventually run along the edge of her ribcage. As soon as it started it was over, and Felix went to the window to throw the wood out so the ship wouldn't catch alight.

"Stay 'ere. Sounds like things are already quietin' down." Sure enough, outside the British ship was pulling away. In the middle of the battle, Jack had chased Stella down to come face to face with Roberts. With the help of Will, the two of them had managed to push the commodore into a standstill and forced him and his men back to their ship. Roberts had a choice to continue going after them, but as it was they'd both be destroyed in the end – and he was probably betting that the Pearl would sink before it got too far since he had put so many holes in it. The dead were being tossed over-board, the wounded tended to, and the rest were cleaning up the ship as best they could.

Jack came in to check on her and see her condition. He ordered her to remain in the bed, chuckling at the thought of how he'd tried to get her there himself but in the end, she'd have to literally be dragged kicking and screaming if not wounded. Morgan cracked a smile at that, dreading the questions that were obviously seething through Felix's mind. But she didn't get to hear the questions – within a week they were docked at Tortuga. Morgan was hauled off the ship to see a doctor, along with the rest of the wounded. The ship was put under repairs, and for a month the entire crew scattered themselves among the brothels and casinos that made up the shanty town of Tortuga. Felix would come to check on her, staying with her through the nights, and whenever Norrington would attempt to visit and speak a few kind words, Felix's somber gaze would bore holes into Norrington's back. Felix had nothing to say to Morgan, even though she desperately wanted to explain herself. She often fingered the amethyst stone pendant that hung on a silver necklace around her neck – a gift from Felix himself – but its comfort was dwindling.

As soon as she was healed, Felix was gone. It seemed he had only stayed to see her through, and then he left the same as he had come. At the end of the month, the crew returned to the ship, and the small group that navigated the ship – Jack, Morgan, Will, Stella, and Norrington – gathered to plot another course, having found new information that said Elizabeth was being held by Roberts, no less, in a newly founded British port not too far off from Port Worthy. Apparently, she was slated to marry him.

The ship left, within a week. Felix was not on board, and Morgan felt half guilty, half betrayed. She didn't spend any time looking for him.


End file.
